


Not His Greatest Strength

by junko



Series: Written in the Scars (of Our Hearts) [7]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Renji away in the Human World, Byakuya is left to deal with... people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not His Greatest Strength

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to Josey (cestus) for typo-spotting and all the usual beta helpfulness!

All of the paperwork was exactly where Byakuya preferred to find it. Obviously, Renji had left detailed instructions with the Fourth Seat. Though it seemed, as Byakuya looked through the work and corrected a few things, it would take time for her to completely grasp all the complexities of higher level Division business. It was hard not to be disappointed. 

Slashing his brush through another simple mistake Renji would never have made, Byakuya had to pause and take a breath. Patience! It was the woman’s first day and she’d never expected to have to take on the role of adjutant so soon. She was only Fourth; the Third should be doing this job. 

Byakuya picked up the papers again, trying to focus on all she’d done well. 

After all, it wasn’t her fault he’d slept so terribly last night. Even wrapped in Renji’s robes, Byakuya had found it surprisingly difficult to sleep without grunting snores echoing in his ears and a hot, heavy body crowding the bed. When Byakuya had finally started to drift, his mind instantly filled with images of the fight in Karakura Town and every moment Renji was hit or injured.

Byakuya didn’t think he’d managed more than a few hours.

Giving up and getting out of bed had improved nothing. In fact, the prospect of eating alone had so demoralized him, Byakuya had actually sought out aunt Masama’s company. She’d been chipper and chatty, and, keeping up with her inane conversation had left Byakuya drained and exhausted and irritated.

And missing Renji even more.

It was going to be a long separation.

There was a soft knock on the door. Byakuya glanced up, and despite knowing better, still hoped it was Renji’s long, lanky form leaning against the frame. Instead, it was a double disappointment. For who should be kneeling at the door, but Miisho Ōta, their errant Third Seat. The last person Byakuya wished to interact with. 

“A moment of your time, Captain?”

“If you must,” Byakuya said, which was profoundly rude of him, but what could this man want? Pouncing back the moment Renji was gone! It was shameful. Still, Byakuya supposed he should hear him out. Motioning that Miisho should enter, Byakuya stood so that Miisho could come in and take a place across from the desk. Byakuya tried to sound more pleasant when he asked, “What can I do for my cousin-to-be?”

Miisho blushed a little at that. 

Byakuya still couldn’t believe that his aunt had contracted out such a lovely cousin to a person with such minor connections and almost no noble blood. All for a spy. It was a poor bargain, especially if Masama thought to trade Renji for one such as this. 

He let Miisho settle before seating himself. “You will give my regards to Nene-chan when you see her next?” Byakuya said, having been reminded of his cousin’s name during the nonstop chitter-chatter over breakfast. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure since my own wedding, and she was just a tiny thing back then. She’s grown-up well, I’m to understand?”

“Oh, very much so, my lord,” Miisho said, his face the color of a beet. “I’ll be sure to give her your best.”

Byakuya wondered if Miisho had actually been allowed to see Nene outside of pictures. No doubt, Masama insisted on formal courting screens. Probably the poor couple had chaperones at every meeting, as well. All of the veils and ceremony were meant to make the two prospective lovers more anxious, more aroused, but it hadn’t worked that way for Byakuya, at all. In fact, it’d been so much easier to break the heart of a ‘betrothed’ he only knew as a distant, shy, and carefully watched voice. 

There was a long stretch of silence as Byakuya waited for Miisho to gather his courage for whatever he’d come to say.

Finally, the Third Seat coughed and said, “Lieutenant Abarai is on assignment.”

That seemed rather obvious. Surely, Miisho hadn’t come all the way from the estate to inform him of that. “So he is.”

“You’re shorthanded. I’d like to be reinstated.”

Ah. Of course.

“I’m sure you would,” Byakuya said simply. Turning his attention to the papers on the desk, he frowned at the marked up requisition form. A Fourth Seat as acting vice-captain was a stretch. There would be advantages to taking Miisho back, but how could he be allowed to return in good conscience? “Yet you make that difficult, Miisho. Thanks to you, my aunt has descended upon my household and makes threats on my lover’s life.”

“His _life_?”

Byakuya glanced up at the surprise in Miisho’s voice. Did he not know? Had they not conspired together? Or was this just an act of sympathy to curry favor? 

“Yes,” Byakuya repeated, “His life. She tells me you’ve provided evidence of some kind that could condemn him. She would twist our affection into assault.”

Miisho’s eyes grew wide, and then he dropped his gaze to watch his thumbs twirling nervously against his thighs, “Oh, yes, assault. That could be… serious. But his life?”

“Assault would mean his life. Renji is from Inuzuri or have you forgotten?” Byakuya tried to keep the snappishness from his voice, but he found his tone was as sharp as his gaze. “If he is somehow painted as having… accosted me in some way, his life is utterly forfeit.”

“She would charge him with rape?”

Byakuya snorted at the Third’s crudeness and complete lacking in understanding of the noble mindset. It would take some doing to bring him up to Kuchiki level. Aunt Massey had her work cut out for her.

“She wouldn’t have to,” Byakuya explained, reaching for any shred of patience he had to keep his voice steady. “For someone like Renji to even dare touch my person, in any way imagined, is far more than enough to condemn him to death.” Byakuya’s frown deepened, “But, surely you considered all this when you forged your alliances, when you made your accusations against him.”

“No… I…. You’re serious? You’re not exaggerating?” Miisho looked up then, searching Byakuya face. “Condemned to death?”

“My aunt dotes on you, but she’s taught you nothing. You are ill prepared to even rub elbows with nobles of my rank. You crave the privilege of being untouchable without understanding that this means you may never allow yourself to be touched?” 

Byakuya let those words sink in for a moment. Miisho, however continued to stare back, eyes empty of true comprehension. “But… he’s a shinigami, a lieutenant. And your wife was from Inuzuri.”

How was the Third Seat still failing to comprehend the severity of Renji’s situation? What had Aunt Massey said to Miisho? Had she sugar coated her intentions?

“There is no comparison,” Byakuya snapped. “Let me explain this in the simplest way possible. I brought Hisana up. She was a person of no means--frail and ill and tiny and… barren. But, more importantly to my family, Hisana carried no zanpakutō. She didn’t have the threat implicit in bankai, in the rank of vice-captain. The only power Hisana had came from me.” 

Besides, it was assumed that, as a woman, she would submit to Byakuya. She would be on her knees before him, and never the reverse. The question would always be open with Renji and that… that was his true death knell. 

It had been, after all, the one thing aunt Masama had most needed reassurances about. 

“I brought Hisana _up_ ,” Byakuya repeated, making sure he was understood. “Renji can only bring me _down_. Therefore, he is, by far, the greater danger to my family--to all the families of name. Many in the noble houses would happily see Renji put down in the most public and humiliating way possible as a warning to others who would dare reach up.” With a soft sigh, Byakuya added, “And as a punishment to me for stooping so low.”

Miisho had gone back to staring at his hands. His face was pale and bloodless. Perhaps, in fact, the Third Seat didn’t know the extent to which he’d thrown Renji to the wolves. Byakuya wanted to have sympathy, but failed.

“I didn’t realize how deeply powerful souls from the Rukongai were… hated. I thought… that is… how will your family ever accept me?”

Byakuya was confused by this sudden turn in their conversation. Besides, Miisho must understand that ‘acceptance’ would always be conditional, mustn’t he? “You were born inside the Seireitei, were you not?”

“Um, sort of,” Miisho confessed, “On paper.”

Oh?

Miisho coughed. “No one ever said so much, but, there were always rumors. Let’s just say, I always looked a lot more like the gardener than I did my father. Have you never wondered why I didn’t stay on to inherit my family’s lands? I conceded my birthright under pressure.”

How interesting. 

It seemed there was a sudden plague of bastards wishing to steal the Kuchiki name for their own. At least this one was relatively harmless as such things went. 

Byakuya waved off Miisho’s worry. “I don’t understand your concern. You were born dead, on this side of the wall,” Byakuya reminded him, “This already puts you leagues above Renji. But, if one of the things my lady aunt offered you was ‘acceptance’ in the family, it was a false promise.”

“What?” Miisho seemed genuinely shocked.

“Read your contract carefully, Third Seat,” Byakuya said. “I have. It is clear to me by the language there that you’re taking a wife, not being adopted into our ranks. Her name will stay behind. You’ve been offered some land and salary as dowry, but you will not be a Kuchiki. She’s becoming an Ōta.”

This was why Byakuya could never understand why aunt Masama had been willing to make this deal. What a waste! Massey always bemoaned the alliances Byakuya threw away, but, he, at least, lost the family nothing in terms of name or holdings or fortune. And, he, at least, had not done it for some bad bargain, but for love. 

Poor Nene-chan was a pawn—going off to a horrible life with a man she could not yet possibly love, to a life that must seem like destitution compared to the Kuchiki riches. 

Her mother must be weeping.

Byakuya’s frown deepened. Why had his cousins agreed to this? Aunt Masama was a powerful influence in the family, but each had their own fortunes, their own alliances, their own interests—particularly those descendants of his grandfather’s brothers who had, among their assets, the Kuchiki name.

So, the family must be getting something more than rid of Renji. Did Nene somehow wish for the life of a soldier’s wife? Perhaps she had some other ambition of her own? She was young—much younger than Miisho—did she hope to go to Academy or to do something else unexpected or ‘eccentric’? Had this been the only way to be free of the restrictions of name and fortune? 

Hmmm, Byakuya made himself a note in his diary to write to Nene and find out. Perhaps they could do an end run around Miisho, if necessary. 

“But... my wealth would be restored,” Miisho was saying as though to himself. “I would have land and connections.”

Byakuya glanced up. “Yes, you and Nene would always be under my aegis. But, remember, Miisho Ōta, your connection is to me. You should not be surprised to find me less than forthcoming should Renji die due to evidence you’ve provided. And your wife-to-be? How would she feel if she were to learn that part of her bride-price was paid in blood?” Byakuya could see the steel harden in Miisho’s gaze at the implied threat, so he raised his hand for peace. “I found your contract had been signed before you left the Division. It can’t possibly be contingent on betraying Renji, can it? Why not come into my family without this ugliness between us?”

Miisho stared hard at Byakuya. Miisho’s eyes were narrow and the silence stretched for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, he asked, “What’s your counter offer, Taicho?”

“There are several teahouses I wish to be divested of,” Byakuya said without hesitation. “They currently represent twenty percent of my family’s annual profit. You would be an astronomically rich man.”

Now the look in Miisho’s eyes was easy to read; it was pure greed. 

So, Byakuya continued confidently, “As far as I’m concerned, if my aunt and Nene-chan are still agreeable, you can keep your marriage contract and its dowry as well. But you must release your evidence against Renji to me and never breathe a word of fraternization to anyone, regardless of whether or not he and I continue to see each other.”

“And my position in the Guard?” he asked.

“Is where you left it. However, I’d like you to put in for early retirement,” Byakuya said honestly. Miisho and Renji shouldn’t have to work together again, ever. Moreover, Byakuya didn’t want to work with someone who’d proven himself so easily bought off. “But, you could retain your seat until you’re married and settled. You could be discharged honorably.”

Miisho could be, if the Court Guard let him, but Byakuya wouldn’t promise a recommendation unless Miisho pressed him for one.

“I’d like to see the tea house figures, but… I will consider it.”

Consider? Really? What was to be gained by not taking the teahouses? Hmm, perhaps, Byakuya underestimated Miisho’s desire to… what? Miisho had seemed genuinely upset at the idea of Renji’s death. So, what remained unspoken on the table? A chance to see Byakuya humiliated, perhaps? A hope to up the ante, to see exactly how much Renji was worth to him? 

Byakuya would happily pay it all, but, if money was the deciding issue, the tea houses already represented a king’s ransom. Perhaps Miisho simply couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of the sum Byakuya had laid at his feet. With a broad sweep of his hand, Byakuya indicated they should stand. “Excellent. I will make the numbers available.”

Miisho bowed lowly and backed out.

#

The next person to knock on his door was the Fourth Seat. Byakuya had finally seen her mark on enough papers that he knew to say, “Come in, Nanako Imai.”

She seemed pleased to be in called by name, but then suddenly uncertain how to proceed. Glancing at the kenseikan nervously, she looked like she wanted to collapse prostrate before him. Byakuya smiled to himself at her timidity, if only because the color of her skin and hair reminded him so much of that infuriating hell-cat and it amused him to imagine Yoruichi behaving this way. Looking at the Fourth again, made him wonder. Could she be some distant Shihōin cousin? There were so very, very few of that mysterious clan, but they did produce extraordinarily powerful women.

“Sit,” Byakuya said. Having stood up, he gestured to the spot across from him. “We have things we should discuss.”

“Hai, Taicho!”

Hmm, her enthusiasm reminded him of Renji as did the fiery spark of her zanpakutō’s reiatsu. 

She sat seiza easily. Byakuya joined her.

Before he could figure out how to bring up the issues with the paperwork, she blurted, “The Second Division delivered this a few minutes ago,” she laid a sealed letter on Byakuya’s desk, and turned it around so he might read it. “It’s marked personal for Lieutenant Abarai, but… well, it was delivered from the prison, wasn’t it? It must be from his brother.”

“I wouldn’t have thought Renji’s brother could write,” Byakuya said, “Though perhaps he’s learned, as well.”

They both stared at it for a moment, before she asked, “Do you think we should open it, Taicho?”

The hand that had printed Renji’s name was very serious looking, crisp and clean, not at all like one might expect from someone who would have learned to write in prison. 

Byakuya picked it up decisively and broke the seal. “If it’s news of Seichi, Renji would want to know.” 

Scanning the letter, Byakuya saw that it was official correspondence from the warden of the prison. It seemed that Seichi was being moved to a new barracks. The reason cited was a very curious: ‘increased security.’ They asked Renji to consider paying Seichi’s room and board to avoid the necessity of solitary confinement.

Byakuya handed the letter to the Fourth Seat, who took it with surprise, but eagerly read it.

“What do you make of it?” Byakuya asked. 

From around the corner of the letter, Nanako gave Byakuya a crooked smile, “All Abarais are trouble?”

Byakuya couldn’t quite suppress the slight laugh that came out. “Beyond that,” he prompted. “Don’t you find the request curious?”

She set the letter down on Byakuya’s desk. “Well, if Abarai is getting into fights with the general populace, solitary makes sense.”

“Yes,” Byakuya agreed. “However, I meant ‘room and _board_.’ They intend to feed him. Why?” 

“Oh!” She looked at the letter again. The skin of her cheeks darkened a little and she gave Byakuya a sort of apologetic smile. “I just assumed that was the usual appeal for a bribe. But, no, of course, these are Second Division shinigami, not common magistrates! So… you really think they’ll feed him, Taicho? I mean, does that make practical sense? Won’t it make him stronger?”

Byakuya was intrigued at Nanako’s assumptions of the necessity of a bribe, but he focused, for the moment, on the issue at hand. “Currently, Seichi’s spiritual pressure is being contained by a small manacle. Perhaps feeding him helps even out fluctuations?” Byakuya sighed. Maybe because she reminded him so much of people he loved, Byakuya found he was able to admit, “But, I’m at a disadvantage here. I have no idea how such things work.”

She nodded. “I don’t really either.”

He gave her a curious eyebrow.

“Both my parents are shinigami. I was born in the Fourth Division barracks,” she smiled. “My father had the lower rank, so he agreed to retire to raise me. We set up a business here inside the Seireitei not far from his old regiment. I grew up surrounded by soldiers of all ranks and backgrounds. But… I have no idea what it’s like to go hungry. Dad and I ran a noodle shop.”

Curiosity overwhelmed him and before he could stop himself, Byakuya asked, “But your mother? She wasn’t involved at all?”

“Oh, a little,” Nanako said, flipping one of the long dark braids away from her face. “I still see her sometimes. But… well,” she coughed. “Her division is all about…um, fighting.”

The Eleventh? Byakuya hadn’t even realized there were any women in the Eleventh. How could he have failed to notice a female seated officer in the Eleventh? “She’s still there?”

“No, she’s moved on, but… well, you know how the Eleventh sticks with a person.”

Thinking of Renji, Byakuya nodded, “I do, indeed.”

#

Byakuya and Nanako discussed the paperwork and he gave her the job of returning a reply to the Second on Renji’s behalf. Byakuya would assume financial responsibility for the brother. He would make arrangements to visit him later, to make sure the money was, in fact, being spent on Seichi.

“You know the lieutenant going to hate this, right?” Nanako said, taking the reply and packet of initial funds.

Byakuya suspected as much, but was curious which part she thought Renji would object to most. “You think so? His fierce loyalty to family is… legendary.”

“Yeah, but I mean the charity,” she said, hefting the ken in its pouch. “He's going to feel like he owes you, isn’t he, sir?”

“Perhaps it’s merely time for Renji to expand his concept of family,” Byakuya said obliquely, returning his attention to the remaining Division work. 

She took in a breath of surprise.

Was is possible that she’d somehow heard about or suspected the fraternization? Byakuya glanced up. “The division is his family as well, is it not?”

Her blushing stammer told Byakuya everything. “Oh, right. Right, of course, we are! Yes, sir!”

#

Speaking of family, Byakuya considered avoiding his all together and staying at the Division for the evening. He was just turning to call for Aio to deliver dinner and move to his quarters, when a loud rap was followed by a bold hand pushing open the door. 

“Ho, ho!” bellowed a humorous voice that could only belong to Captain Kyōraku. He came into view. Lantern light from the portico cast strangely deep, long shadows at his feet while reflecting playfully on the bright pink kimono draped over his massive shoulders. “Your steward said you were hiding here. Come, come, Mr. Byakuya, hurry and gather up your things!” He clapped his big hands together, “My Jūshirō and your lady aunt are waiting for us up at the estate!”

Byakuya stood. “Did we have plans I was unaware of, Shunsui?”

Kyōraku laughed, “Why, of course! Obviously you were unaware that Jūshirō and I have been wondering how you’ve been doing with Mr. Renji away on business! You clearly had no idea we planned a surprise visit, otherwise you would have told us you already had house guests and reminded us to bring a present for that lovely widowed aunt of yours.”

The way Kyōraku lingered on the term ‘widowed’ made Byakuya unthinkingly murmur, “Oh dear god, do not court my aunt.” To cover his rudeness, he quickly stacked up the remaining work and joined Kyōraku at the door and added, “Not that you wouldn’t make a fine addition to my family, of course.”

And at least Kyōraku’s provenance was clear. If he was a bastard, it was in an entirely different way.

“Ha! I joined the Court Guard to get away from family politics! At any rate, I believe my fourth cousin is already a Kuchiki. That’s plenty familial closeness for either of us, I’m sure, Mr. Byakuya,” Kyōraku said with a wan smile and a dip of his wide-brimmed hat. Then, he laughed and slapped a hand on Byakuya’s back, “Now let’s hurry along, my boy. My partner and your lady aunt are bound to get testy without us to run interference!”

#

The room Eishirō had settled Ukitake and Masama in was one that Byakuya always thought of as ‘the war room.’ A favorite hide-away as a child, Byakuya had spent hours inspecting the hand-painted fusuma panels filled with an epic battle of fully-armed samurai against an army of orange-faced oni. Dark cherry wood beams gave the space a dark, somber, serious feel. 

In the heavy, solid room, white-haired Ukitake cut a striking figure kneeling seiza with his haori spread out around him. Aunt Masama was more subdued, in Kuchiki blues displaying the family crest in indigo and gold. Her hair was also down--a loose, silver cascade. 

A bottle of sake sat between them, untouched. Ukitake looked up expectantly when the door open, relief obvious in his pleasure at seeing Kyōraku and Byakuya enter. Byakuya noticed Ukitake secretly mouth ‘thank god’ to Kyōraku as they briefly came together in an embrace

Aunt Masama stood up and accepted a similar greeting from Kyōraku. “Oh, Shunsui!” she said, “And how is your elder brother?”

“I have no idea, thank fate!” Kyōraku boomed happily. “As I was telling Mr. Byakuya, I’ve happily avoided court and family for centuries. I can only hope my luck continues to hold for several more!”

Masama looked confused by the onslaught by Kyōraku’s good cheer. She glanced at Byakuya, as though for help. He just shook his head. There was no helping for the bluster that was Shunsui Kyōraku. So instead, Byakuya said, “You’ve been kind to keep my former commander company in our absence.” Giving a little nod to Ukitake, he added, “My apologies, Taicho. I should have been here to greet you both.”

Ukitake fluttered a little, embarrassed. “Oh, it’s we who must apologize, Byakuya. Shunsui and I had no idea you had family visiting. We thought, in fact, you might be a bit lonely with Renji away in the Human World. We brought some of Shunui’s family’s label to share and hoped to make a night of it.”

They’d come to… keep him company in Renji’s absence?

Byakuya was oddly touched.

“That’s very kind of you,” Byakuya said, over the sound of Aunt Masama’s tongue tisk at the mention of Renji’s name. “I’d be honored if you’d stay for dinner.”

Ukitake and Kyōraku exchanged a look. Ukitake opened his mouth as though he might back out, when Kyōraku’s arm shot out to grasp Byakuya’s shoulder, “We’d love to.”


End file.
